“Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“Did the refrigerator surrender?”
“No.”
“Captain Pancake emergency?”
“He does not live here.”
“He has demonstrated mobility.”
I leaned against the doorframe.
“There are still a lot of things I’m not sure about.”
Annie waited.
She did not tell me uncertainty was understandable or offer a promise designed to make it disappear. She moved the phone onto the nightstand and gave me time to continue.
“I’m sure I don’t want you sleeping in here tonight.”
Her face changed before she managed to control it.
“That is a very specific area of confidence.”
“I prefer manageable decisions.”
“Should I bring the pillow?”
“No.”
“Leave it here in case the room feels abandoned?”
“Annie.”
She stood.
“I’m coming.”
She followed me down the hall without touching me. When we reached my bedroom, the distance between us became awkward again.
Annie looked at the bed.
“This feels like another moment where a movie would provide instructions.”
“Movies remove clothing and skip practical conversations.”
“They also employ flattering lighting.”
“I turned on the lamp.”
“It is excellent.”
“You are stalling.”
“Yes.”
